There is no man like you, Leon.
There is no alike you.
Your tender kisses,
your tendes lips,
asking me the depth of my love,
are like wine, like honey,
I have not yet tasted anywhere,
other place, other time.

There is no one alike you, Leon.
There is no power, or tenderness,
that I have found within your heart.
And the way you treat,
there is no comparison,
no alike to what you make me feel.

And the one, who has refused to bow.
One who has refused to confess.
To you I bow, I confess:
You are my sun, my stars,
the soil under my feet,
the wind that carries me into the better.

And I come from a place,
where there is no hope.
But my eyes see the miracle of
what we are.

The love is like a fire.
There goes my past.
There goes my sorrows.
All-burning fire is our love, Leon.

And I want to dance with the flames
like an untamed savage.
My heart belongs to you,
and you are the keeper of my heart.

There is no man like you, Leon,
and never will be.